


Distortion

by genmitsu



Series: Thorns [1]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 12:11:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13880610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genmitsu/pseuds/genmitsu
Summary: Inspired by a prompt where scruffy postBlackgate!Jim gets to meet adorable postArkham!Oswald.So... yeah. Canon ignored thoroughly, and everything is bad.Jim doesn’t expect anyone, and when the knocking doesn’t stop after a while he’s getting angry. Angrier. He gulps down his whiskey and puts the glass on the table, standing up. He walks to the door in irritation, but when he opens it he sees a very unexpected face.





	Distortion

**Author's Note:**

> Not a good story. Not a feel-good story. Honest.

 

 

Jim doesn’t expect anyone, and when the knocking doesn’t stop after a while he’s getting angry. Angri _er_. He gulps down his whiskey and puts the glass on the table, standing up. He walks to the door in irritation, but when he opens it he sees a very unexpected face.

“Jim! My dear old friend!” Oswald Cobblepot is beaming at him, radiating delight. Jim scoffs.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“I’ve just been released from Arkham, Jim! I’m a normal person again, a good person. I’m sane. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Jim notices that there’s something off about him, in the way his eyes look, and the way he smiles. It’s disturbing in its trust and innocence. Shrewd and cunning Oswald has no business looking so kittenish and… cute.

“Yeah. Congratulations. Well, see ya,” he moves to close the door, but Oswald lurches forward and Jim halts instinctively so as not to hit him.

“Is that whiskey I smell?” Oswald is very close to him now, sniffing curiously. “Drinking so early, Jim?”

“Why do you care?” Jim doesn’t notice it but somehow Oswald is in his apartment, moreover, he’s in his face, a lot closer than ever before. And he smiles at him so warmly.

“It just suits you, my friend,” he laughs, and a laugh is different too, too bubbly. “You’ve always smelled like leather and whiskey to me.”

Oswald reaches out and puts his hands on Jim’s chest, they’re cool through the tank top and Jim is too stunned to move away. “And you were attractive before, Jim, but this…” He nods to Jim’s stubbly chin, his longer hair. “This is too much. I can’t hold it back anymore. Jim, I love you, loved you from the start,” Oswald beams at Jim, somehow pressing closer still, and he’s so unguarded and open, Jim has never seen him that way before.

“They really did a number on you there, huh?” Jim says, watching his face. “You’re not yourself anymore.”

“On the contrary, Jim!” Oswald replies, although there’s a subtle shift, a fall in his expression, quickly replaced by that disturbing kittenish smile again. “I haven’t felt more myself in ages. And I have you to thank for it… Jim, you’re always saving me, it’s high time I repaid you. Just ask,” he says, batting his eyelashes bashfully. “I’ll do anything you want.”

“You don’t have anything I want,” Jim growls, irritated. What’s with this, looking so sweet, confessing love, suggesting things. Jim can’t help it getting into his head. There was always that allure to their interactions, the tension always present between them. Jim doesn’t want it. He loves Lee, he loves women, he can’t be attracted to… this.

“I think I do, Jim,” Oswald smiles again and traces Jim’s muscles with his fingers, splaying them over the fabric of the tank top as they glide lower. Jim catches his hands before they reach the waistband of his jeans and looks at Oswald angrily, but he just leans closer, pressing against Jim. “You need to get it out, Jim, I can see it… and I can take it, Jim. You don’t have to hold back.”

Now that is an idea. Despite his soft look, Oswald is still a man. He can take Jim’s strength, and Jim could just get it over with, resolve the tension once and for all and banish Oswald from his life forever, if he does it right.

Jim lets go of Oswald’s hands slowly and reaches across him to close the door. The lock clicks with deafening finality, marking their point of no return.

Jim frowns at Oswald and takes his coat off for him, letting it fall to the floor.

“Turn around, face the wall,” he says, pulling off the scarf from Oswald’s neck and dropping it as well.

“Jim?..”

“You said you’d do anything I want, take anything? Get ready,” Jim growls. “You won’t like it.”

Oswald smiles at him so tenderly, so brightly, with immense trust. “You won’t hurt me, Jim, however you might pretend to. I know. You are a good man.” He starts to turn.

“I’m not,” Jim grabs him by the shoulder and pushes him towards the wall. “And I will.”

Jim twists Oswald’s arm and pushes him further, pressing it into his back. He tears Oswald’s pants down together with the underwear, baring his small pale butt, Oswald gasping even before Jim’s finger finds his anus and forces itself inside. Jim knows it should sting and burn, this friction without any lubrication not pleasant at all, and Oswald whimpers and jerks his hips instinctively, trying to get away. Jim pushes in, and it’s very hot and very dry inside, and with the resistance he has trouble moving just one finger in and out.

Jim continues anyway, without mercy, the man under him irrelevant, no, worse - a personification of everything wrong with this goddamn city, a manifestation of every vice and sin and crime, and Jim wants to get back at it, hurting it as much as it hurt him. It has to pay, and pay dearly with its own pain and blood.

He leans in, pressing against Oswald’s body, and licks his ear, startling a sound out of him. Jim uses the distraction to slip in a second finger in, and that’s so much tighter and harder to move, and Oswald whines and hisses through his teeth, his breath ragged, his muscles clenching over Jim’s fingers, the knuckles being a particular challenge.

“Oh Jim, oh, Jim,” his voice almost breaking, pleading. “Please, slower…”

“Slower, huh?” Jim drawls and nibbles on his earlobe, sucking it into his mouth. “You want it slower?”

Jim quickens his pace instead and adds another finger, pushing into Oswald’s tight opening with malicious glee. Oswald can’t hold his voice in and he starts crying out with every push. The pained sounds excite Jim more than they have any right to and Jim leans in and bites his neck, lightly at first, but then he gets irritated by the jacket collar and he pushes it down Oswald’s shoulders, trapping his arms, and starts biting the exposed flesh more viciously, as if wanting to draw blood, his stubble further irritating delicate skin. Oswald’s voice breaks into sobs and gasps, and Jim’s name is like a prayer on his lips.

“Shut up,” Jim growls and kisses him roughly, biting and sucking those lips, and Oswald answers him, yielding, his mouth opening under Jim’s as if he was drowning and Jim was the last gulp of air. The strain against the fabric of the jeans in Jim’s groin is unbearable.

“Shut up,” he says again, twisting Oswald’s arm further and then he takes his fingers out completely. Oswald’s hole is stretched and gaping, so red now, and his voice is just soft sobs, and his knees almost give out. Jim unzips and takes his cock out, pressing it to the stretched entrance. Oswald buckles and gasps out loud, and he starts calling Jim’s name again, quickly, rushed, as if he could be spared if he was only fast enough.

“You wanted this,” Jim purrs into his ear before shoving his cock deep inside. It burns and hurts, but being on the receiving end should hurt more, and Oswald chokes on his voiceless cry as Jim moves further in relentlessly until he’s buried in completely. “You wanted all of this, Oswald,” he says again, the hot writhing body under him an impossible temptation, each tremble a reward, each cry a prize. Jim slides out slowly, so slowly he doesn’t even enjoy it, and then pushes in again, hitting a spot inside that makes Oswald arch his back and moan out loud, the precum finally providing some lubrication and easing the movements.

Oswald whimpers and clenches around him when Jim bites his shoulder again, and his face is wet and contorted, and he still calls out Jim’s name as if Jim was the only thing that mattered in the whole damn world. Jim groans, unable to dehumanize him still, and a twinge of fear and shame gnaws at his heart. Oswald is… Oswald, just a person, not Gotham, and he’s so tender and accepting under him, despite his ambitions, despite his pride, also crooked into a grotesque reflection of his former self by this cruel city. What was Jim thinking, trying to hurt him like that, trying to push him away for good? However he may reject the notion, Oswald’s trust in him, in his inherent goodness was the one thing that he never wavered about. Some goodness he’s showing him.

“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me I’m hurting you and I might stop,” Jim growls, trying to make the both of them end this cruel game.

“Jim…” he gasps brokenly. “I want this, Jim, I want this so much.” Oswald tries to turn his face to Jim, but the twisted arm stops him halfway. “I’ve loved you for so long, Jim, I want everything of you.” He smiles through his tears, the same bright and tender smile that he had before it all started, and Jim’s stomach twists. “Give it to me, Jim, I can take it.”

Jim groans in exasperation. There’s just no saving the both of them, none at all. The jolts of his hips become rougher still, faster, but he leans forward to kiss Oswald again, softer, licking the swollen and bitten lips with his tongue, and he reaches for Oswald’s cock as well. It’s still small and half-flaccid despite his words, and Oswald jerks in surprise, pushing himself further onto Jim’s erection, and they both moan at the sudden friction.

“Do that again,” Jim rumbles in Oswald’s ear, his hand on his cock, stroking and caressing, coaxing it into arousal. Oswald rolls his hips obediently, meeting Jim halfway, again, and again, his breath shallow now that Jim focuses his attention on his needs as well, now that Jim lets go of his arm to hold him and press him to his chest. Oswald’s hand covers Jim’s that lies across his stomach, gripping it harder with every push and stroke, Oswald’s lips part with tiny moans as the two of them keep moving in sync. Jim shuts his eyes and presses his face to Oswald’s shoulder as his movements become erratic and lose their rhythm, Oswald squeezing him so hard it practically forces the orgasm out of Jim, and he bottoms out, the shudders overtaking him. Oswald follows him with a short cry, coming into Jim’s hand.

“Oh God,” he gasps, going limp in Jim’s arms. “Jim…”

“Shut up,” Jim says, hoarse, but without any real anger, embracing Oswald tighter, feeling his racing heartbeat calming down against his palm, same as Jim’s own.

He will have to deal with the consequences later, with everything his actions brought on, but for now he’s content knowing that even twisted and crooked into something else, even though the city drove them both insane, it’s still okay as long as the ragged edges of their reflections match each other. They can find the way back through that.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> PostArkham!Oswald is, in my opinion, the most insane we've seen him, and it's literally heartbreaking to watch. Even Jim, ever the hard-ass, would be affected.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it even a little!


End file.
